


remedial motor functions

by androgynousmikewheeler



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: A+ Parenting, Ableism, Canon Autistic Character, F/M, M/M, Nonbinary Abed Nadir, perhaps one day I will update this with the other characters but don't hold your breath, yes I will bitch at Abed's mom and no you cannot stop me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgynousmikewheeler/pseuds/androgynousmikewheeler
Summary: Abed struggles to ask Troy for help.
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	remedial motor functions

Troy lies sprawled across his bed doing something vaguely resembling homework, notebooks and pencils encircling him, when Abed knocks on the door.

Halfway through the door, they recognize their own hesitance and call out, "Can I come in?" They're trying to follow Annie's _gentle suggestions_ on "respecting personal space."

Troy doesn't look up from his work, just shoots a thumbs up towards them and scribbles down something else. "Sure. What's up?"

This is stupid. It's stupid. _Abed, really, you're six years old. Abed, you're going to have to learn eventually. Abed, you're not always going to have your mom around to help. Abed, grow up. Abed, this isn't difficult. Abed, why are you like this? Abed, I'm trying to be patient. Abed, why can't you just be normal?_

They grit their teeth and send away their mother's heavily accented Polish. "I need help."

Troy sits up and looks at them. "You okay?"

Abed nods, sends a half-hearted thumbs up. "I'm fine. I just... it's... my dad is in Palestine for the next two weeks, visiting Abra and my cousins."

Troy nods. "Yeah, he left a few days ago, right?"

"Yes." Abed lapses into silence, trying to phrase their abnormal request in a way considered "normal."

Troy interrupts their thought process with, "Are you bummed you couldn't go?"

"Oh, no, no. Abra is my only cousin that likes me. I don't enjoy visiting everyone else, and I'm fairly certain that the sentiment is mutual."

"Yeah, none of my cousins like me much, either. Granted, they're all about thirty."

Abed hums in acknowledgement, sitting on the edge of Troy's bed and fidgeting with a highlighter from the mess.

"So....?" Troy says.

Abed looks at him, head tumbling with the many confusing rejections of their extended family, and the shattering one of their mother. "So?"

"What did you need help with?"

Oh. They'd almost wished he'd forgotten all about it, but no such luck. They appear to be past the point of no return. (An operatic tune flits through their mind.)

"I..." they sigh, "would you please tie my shoes?"

Troy exhales, his little half laugh. Abed can never tell if it's meant in affection or mocking.

"I know, it's stupid. Everyone can tie their shoes. It's not difficult. I just can't."

Troy quirks his head. "You wear sneakers all the time though."

Abed highlights one of their nails a faint iridescent pink. "I mostly just slip them on and off. And when they untie, my dad does them." They sneak a look at Troy, who watches them intently. "Pretty embarrassing, huh?"

"I can't ride a bike," Troy says. "Flat out can't do it. No idea why."

"Gross motor functions are frustratingly complex."

Troy resituates and sweeps the school supplies away from Abed's corner of the bed. He pats the empty space. Abed just looks at him.

Troy smiles. "Bring your feet over. I'll tie them for you."

Abed sets the highlighter down amongst the other pens and pivots so that their sneakers point at Troy. "Thank you," they mumble.

He leans over, his face suddenly very close to Abed's as he takes the laces between his fingers.

Abed wants nothing more than to close the tiny gap and kiss him, a growing up so much more cinematic than shoelaces.

But they don't.

They just watch him, the quick movement of his hands, the subtle tension in his forehead, the shadow of his short corkscrew curls on his skin.

And then two messy bows lie over the canvas shoes and Troy is pulling back, and Abed doesn't know how such profound feelings of comfort and loss can coexist in one moment.

Troy pats the tops of their feet and smiles. "Here ya go, Inspector!"

Abed plays for a moment with the ties before looking up at him. They don't know what to say.

"Do you want to sit with me?"

Abed nods, grabs back the highlighter, and continues coloring their nails as Troy hums his way through his homework.


End file.
